


It's cold out there, please wear a coat.

by Aproclivity



Series: 12 Days of Stragan Christmas [1]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: 12 Days of Stragan Christmas, Alex Reagan is also Nine cats when she is sick, Coralee is Richard Strand's trigger point, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Oh there's so much fighting, Richard Strand is Nine Cats when he is sick, Richard Strand is a fucking idiot i love him but he's an idiot, Snowed In, Strand thinks winter in Seattle doesn't count, Strand's gotta Strand, and making up, so unintentional first christmas together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21799672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aproclivity/pseuds/Aproclivity
Summary: A few days before Christmas, Ruby calls Richard with information that Coralee rented a strongbox before she went missing and the lease is up. Richard invites Alex to come along and see what's inside after a key shows up by courier. Complicating this is the fact that someone stole his coat at the coffee shop before they left, it's cold and flu season, he's a complete asshole when he's sick and he's too damn stupid to get a new coat. So of course, the inevitable happens.
Relationships: Alex Reagan/Richard Strand, Ruby Carver & Richard Strand
Series: 12 Days of Stragan Christmas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570870
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdyvixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyvixen/gifts).



> So my beloved wife was talking to me, and she said "I wish there was a story where Alex needs to buy Richard a new coat." And thus, as TOO DAMNED OFTEN THE CASE NOWADAYS a plot bunny was born. 
> 
> Also, this story is part 1&2 of my 12 Days of Christmas challenge, mostly because I hate Christmas and yeah this seems like a good idea to get some writing done and get over it a little bit. The idea for this story came from Katie, but the others in the series will come from The OTP prompt generator found at https://prompts.neocities.org/?otp. Some will be angsty, some will be fluffy, some will be AU and some will be in between. The smaller stories will be posted as chapters in a single story, but any larger ones like this one will be posted as single stand alones. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy and have a good holiday season!

“Alex,” Strand’s voice is a sighed whine but louder than it otherwise would be in concession to the crowded nature of the coffee shop and the Christmas music that’s playing too loud in the background. “It’s not _that_ cold out. I don’t see why we can’t just sit out on the patio.”

Staring at him with a frown of disbelief, Alex just scoffs. “Richard, it’s forty degrees. Just because it’s sunny doesn’t mean that the wind has stopped blowing or that it’s somehow magically spring! Ahaha!” There’s a soft sigh of triumph as a couple leaves their table and Alex possessively drops her bag on the top of it before setting down her coffee far more gingerly. When she slides into the chair Richard is still wearing his coat and holding his tea dubiously. 

“Alex forty degrees _is_ spring in Chicago. Especially if there is no snow back keeping the air closer to the ground more chilled.” The whine is still there as Alex just stares at Richard evenly until he removes his coat and puts it over the back of his chair. 

“You know, I keep thinking that you’re forgetting that weren’t in Chicago. And that I’m not _from_ there.”

“You’re _Canadian_.” Richard says it like she’s stupid and she just raises a brow at him. 

“I’m from _Vancouver_. The climate there is the same as here. So yes, it’s winter. Or has it been so long since your time at college up there that you’ve forgotten?” The teasing is gentle as Alex lifts up her coffee cup, a peppermint mocha as a concession to the lateness of the afternoon and the season and she smiles at him over the whipped cream, peppermint bits and chocolate syrup. 

Looking to her for a moment, Richard just gives Alex that huffy laugh of his before picking up his tea. “Are you implying that I’m old, Ms. Reagan?”

“Of course not, Dr. Strand. It’s a well known fact that old people feel the cold more keenly and would never consider forty degrees warm enough to sit outside.” 

He chucked again, “touché, Alex.” Before Strand offers her a piece of the peppermint brownie he’d gotten without thinking. Equally without thinking, Alex takes it and takes a bite. 

“Oh my god. Okay that’s pretty amazing. I think I’m gonna grab one to take back to the office for us for later. I’ll be right back.” Alex doesn’t tell Richard to watch her things because she knows that he’s pretty terrible at remembering to do that, so she throws her bag over her shoulder rather than digging just her wallet out of it. 

Richard looks to her and the line and then back to her. “Perhaps you’d better make it two. I highly doubt that I’m going to be able to stop myself from finishing this in the length of time that you’ll be gone. Hopefully perhaps I’ll see you again before you’re due to go on Christmas break.”

Laughing, Alex just shrugs. “Well then I better get two for myself. Considering you’re not going to be able to insert that famous Dr. Strand control over chocolate.” That too is teasing because Richard can control himself over damned near anything but god help you if you expect him to not eat your chocolate while you’re gone. It had been a source of contention between them for a while before Alex just tended to double up on things if he was going to be left alone with them for any length of time. It had also meant finding new hiding places for things in her office because Richard could snoop and scavenge for them better than anyone else. Even Nic. There’s no small part of Alex that wonders if Richard could even give her dad a run for his money. 

After Alex gets in line, Richard is attempting to prove her wrong while he sits there but the brownie on his plate becomes progressively smaller and smaller as he pursues things on his phone. The phone is there in his hand when Ruby’s name comes across it, and he just swipes to answer it. “Hey bossman. Got something for you if you’ve got time to talk about it.”

“Just a moment, Ruby. Let me go outside so I can hear you.” Without grabbing his coat, Richard just heads out the door, also leaving the half-finished brownie on his plate. 

“Jesus boss, is that Christmas music?”

Richard just sighs softly. “Alex dragged me to a cafe.”

“And you _stayed?!_ Jesus, Richard I’m pretty sure I thought you were _allergic_ to Christmas music!”

Sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose below his glasses, Richard just works to cut Ruby off from the coming tirade about Alex and boundaries. “Alright Ruby you deemed whatever it was important enough to call me in the middle of the day, so get on with it.”

Ruby getting on with it takes forty-five minutes and Alex has already returned to the table by the time he comes back in. Judging by the open laptop and the headphones he’s not the only one who has been working on their coffee break. Wincing when he takes a sip of his now cold tea, Richard just waits until she drags the headphones down her hair and to sit at her neck before he speaks. “We may have a lead. A new one.” Alex just raises a brow and digs out her recorder, flicking it on and sticking the attached ear bud in her ear for him to go on. 

He’s gotten much better about waiting for the recorder so he doesn’t need to double back. 

“Ruby called. The Institute received a call from a bank in Chicago. Apparently just before we left for Big Sur Coralee had rented a safety deposit box. It’s at a smaller bank just outside of the city that we didn’t have any normal banking at so I never would have thought of it there. She left the Institute number as the contact and apparently the prepaid lease is up on it. Given everything I don’t think that the timing is particularly random on this. Just afterward, a courier showed up with a package just containing a key. Obviously she intends me to go and see what’s in it.”

“But Coralee didn’t send you a message herself? That seems a little...odd.”

“Yes. It is. “

“But you’re going to go anyway?” There’s a note of exasperation in Alex’s tone because there can’t not be honestly. For all of the shit he gives her about the stupid things that she does, he sure does them too. 

“Yes.”

Alex stares at him, expecting more but it’s either feast or famine with Richard in interviews like this—he’ll either never shut up, or he’ll just monosyllable her until she sighs. Which of course she does. “So when do you leave?”

“I was thinking that you could come with me. I had Ruby order you a ticket and you can stay with me while you’re there so Nic doesn’t give you a lot of flack about the travel budget.” He speaks quickly, and then looks down at the table with the recorder on it, and anywhere but her face actually. “That is to say my home in Chicago has a guest bedroom that I’m told is comfortable. I realize that it’s close to Christmas but you should be back in plenty of time to head home for your holiday festivities.”

For a moment Alex doesn’t say anything. “When’s the flight?”

“Late tonight if you can manage it. I thought it would be best if we didn’t allow Warren to have the opportunity to get there before us. I’d like to be at the bank first thing.”

Alex weighs what he said for a moment over her second mocha. “Sure, I’ll just grab my bag from the office.”

“If I may, Alex you may want to stop at home first. There’s actually winter in Chicago and I wouldn’t want to deal with an Alexcicle. I don’t think you’d look particularly good blue.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Alex just says “yeah yeah yeah. Layers, I got it. We should get going to the office anyway, I gotta grab my carry on and some work so Nic doesn’t get particularly Nic-like with me.”

He just nods as Alex pulls the earbud from her ear and starts putting her assorted things (including a bag from the bakery) away. After helping her into her coat without comment, he looks to the back of the chair. “Alex, did you see my coat?”

“Nope. I assumed you’d taken it outside with you on the phone. It wasn’t here when I got back.”

Scanning the crowd, Richard just mutters “damn it,” but if someone had taken a coat as expensive as his, it’s not like they would have just stuck around. Besides he wouldn’t even have noticed if they’d walk by him wearing it when he was on the phone with Ruby; Coralee has the habit of always drawing his focus like that and so does getting a leg up on Warren. “It’s fine. I have a coat at home.”

Alex _knows_ that when he’s saying home, he doesn’t mean his father’s house here in Seattle. “I don’t think waiting is a good idea, Richard. Maybe we should grab you something before we get on the plane.” 

“I already told you I have another at home. Besides it’s not like it’s actually winter here. I’ll be fine on the ride home. Ruby is going to get us at the airport.” 

Alex knows that tone of voice and the set line of his eyes and jaw and sighs. “Don’t get grumpy with me when you catch your death of cold.”

“Alex, please you know how colds are actually spread. Besides, I’ll be fine. It’s just one last thing to bring on the flight and stow in the overhead anyway.”

Alex doesn’t argue, but she can’t help but feeling those are famous last words. And as so often happens, Alex’s gut reaction turns out to be right. 

As soon as they got on the flight, things start to go wrong immediately. There’s two hours of them sitting on the tarmac. Someone is coughing loudly a few seats over, there’s a child screaming in the business class seating that Strand always springs for because of the extra leg room. There’s turbulence and Alex isn’t a particularly great flyer. There’s another hour of circling before they can actually land in Chicago. And then to top it all off, Ruby is late picking them up and Richard keeps insisting that they should wait outside. Without his coat in zero degree weather. 

“We really should go in,” Alex sighs for the third time and her voice is muffled behind her scarf. The tip of her nose is crimson and she can feel it, and her coffee went ice cold five minutes ago. If she’s this cold in this many layers she doesn’t want to think about how cold he is, even though it’s basically all she can think about. 

“I don’t want to miss Ruby,” Richard replies for the fifth time, only this time it’s definitely more of a whine than anything else. At least whoever took his coat didn’t take his scarf, but she can see him shivering from over here. 

“Do you want my spare coat?” She knows he’s not going to take it, but Alex has to offer him something. 

She almost wished that she had offered him nothing from the angry sigh that comes along with the biting comment. “Right because the physics of your coat fitting me are ever going to be something that work out. Can’t you for once in your life be sensible?”

“Well,” she snipes back instantly because it’s not as if she’s especially warm right now and _she’s_ the one who wants to go _inside_ like a sensible person was. “I thought that maybe you could use it like a blanket. Sorry for thinking of you.”

“You are being _remarkably unhelpful right now, Alex_.”

“Well, you are being remarkably _stupid_ right now, _Richard_. And I was going to offer to hug you for body warmth but I guess I won’t now.” Richard looks at her for a moment like his brain has simply stopped processing all thought. He can’t even retort something because it’s almost like his operating system has just stopped working. Before Alex can comment on his lack of reply (or before he can reply, she supposed) there’s the sound of loud synths and screeching tires pulling up in front of them.

Richard still doesn’t reply even when she grabs both of their suitcases and starts to drag them over to Ruby’s Prius—something that she’s still surprised that Ruby drives, frankly. Richard explained it to Alex once: Ruby loves the dichotomy of listening to offensively loud death metal or whatever and the fuel efficiency and soccer mom implications of the electric car. It’s only when Ruby pops the trunk, gets out of the car and asks “what the fuck happened to your coat?!” That Richard seems to wake up. 

“Don’t start.” He just says as he tries to jerk the suitcases from Alex’s hand. 

“Get in the car, Richard. Crank the heat. We’ve got this.” He looks like he’s going to argue with Alex as he so often does but when Ruby in all her punk glory stands on her right, Richard just opens his mouth, closes it again and gets in the passenger seat with a truly impressive slam of the car door. “Sorry about that, Ruby.”

Ruby cuts Alex off before she can say anything else. “You don’t need to apologize. Strand is a big boy and he can do it for himself later.”

“What?! He never apologizes,” as Ruby starts to put the suitcases in the car, she just fixes Alex with a stare. 

“Doesn’t he?” The words are loaded, and Alex shifts for a moment uncomfortable before Ruby asks. “Where the hell is his coat?”

“He went outside to take the call from you while I was waiting in line. When we went to leave he noticed it was missing. I tried to get him to stop in Seattle but you know Richard. And then when we got here he refused to go inside like a normal or sane human being.”

Ruby laughs. “Yeah, that sounds about right. He’s going to be fucking miserable tomorrow. Even if he wasn’t going to be already. I don’t envy you dealing with that.”

“Well, it’s not as if I don’t have a whole hell of experience with dealing with him being miserable.” Alex just sighs. “We’ll get him a coat tomorrow before we head to the bank. In the meantime, hopefully he thaws out some.”

Ruby just looks at her very strangely before she gets back into the car without saying anything. Alex follows and at least the heat is blasting in the car. It’s too blasting and eventually as they drive to the city, Alex needs to start shedding layers. They’d been in the car for about forty five minutes before Ruby (or anyone, including Alex herself) speaks. “I went over to the house and threw clean sheets and blankets on the beds, and there’s clean towels in the bathrooms. I grabbed your tea and coffee for Alex to go with the French press you brought when you were home last time.”

Alex perks up at that—for all her encroaching into Strand’s life, she’s never been to the Chicago apartment. As far as she knows she was never going to be in Strand’s apartment. An apartment that now contains her preferred method for making coffee. She wants to comment on it, but Ruby is still talking. “There’s some other staples there that I’m sure you’d want and I tossed all your bullshit protein bars.”

“Ruby.” Her name is a very exhausted sounding sigh. 

“Don’t start bossman. You’ve dragged Alex here with you and she deserves more than just Powerbars for that bullshit. You know how to fucking cook so you’re gonna fucking cook.”

“Ruby.” This time it’s more forceful and he shifts in his seat to glare at his assistant. 

“Don’t even fucking think about ‘Ruby’ing me. You know I’m right. Your dumbass self came here without a coat and waited outside. You don’t get to bitch about anything.”

It’s fascinating to watch and Alex feels a bit like she’s in a tennis match. Nic has told Alex multiple times about what a pain in the ass Ruby is, and how controlling and sharp and snide she was. Honestly. She’s just pretty sure Nic wants Ruby to step on him. Honestly, Alex can’t blame him, because right now it’s a sentiment that Alex shares entirely. Because if nothing else, what Ruby said did something entirely unthinkable: she made Richard shut up when clearly he wants to say a lot more in response to it. 

Thankfully the ride isn’t too much longer before they pull up in front of a tasteful building that has a doorman at the front. He opens the door and looks surprised to see Richard. Or at least surprised to see Richard in that state. He’d thawed in the car but as soon as he’s outside he’d started shivering again. Grabbing his key ring from the suit pocket, he just leads Alex up the elevator to the tenth floor and then down the hall to his apartment before letting them both inside. 

Dropping his keys and briefcase on a table by the door, he just sighs contentedly and goes to turn on the light. Alex doesn’t need it with the view of the city around them and she gasps softly. “ _Wow_.”

“I told you I had money that just wasn’t liquid, Alex. There is a great deal of equity in my home here in Chicago.” He sounds plaintive as he walks through the open and modern space into the kitchen and turns on the lights there. Without saying anything, he grabs two glasses down from the cabinet and fills them with water from the door of the fridge as Alex follows him in with a yawn. 

“I never said I didn’t believe you, Richard. I’ve seen your suits you know.” There’s some amusement in her voice when she takes the water he offers her and sips it. 

“Yes. Well. You must be tired. I’ll show you to the guest room. Uh. The view isn’t as impressive from there, but the bed is comfortable. According to Ruby anyway. There’s been more than a few times that she’s stayed here when she’s been between places.”

Alex wants to make a teasing remark about that and Ruby finding anything comfortable but the way Richard just looks exhausted and miserable stops her. So, instead she just nods. “That’d be nice. Thanks. I think I need a shower. You should probably grab one too. It’ll help you warm up some more.”

Making a noise of noncommittal, Richard just leads Alex and her suitcase down the short hallway to a place with two doors. He opens the one to the right, and it’s actually a nice size guest room. “There’s an en-suite so you don’t need to worry about bothering me. I’ll see you in the morning, Alex.” It’s perhaps one of the shortest goodbyes between them in person as Richard just opens the door across the hall and shuts it before Alex can say anything. 

Frowning, Alex just closes the door herself and turns on the lights in the guest room, dumping her suitcase onto the bed. Through the window she can see the first brushes of pink burst across the unfamiliar skyline before she closes the shades and shower. Despite everything, Alex doesn’t sleep. She wants to sleep, and she tries to sleep but her body is just too wired to do it. Even though she considers making a sleep note, she doesn’t because the last thing she wants to do is wake Strand up. 

At six-thirty, Alex finally gives up the ghost on trying to sleep and she just gets dressed and quietly pads into the kitchen in her socks, glancing to Richard’s still closed door as she does so. The French press is easy to find where it’s sitting on the counter, and Ruby had gotten ground coffee and put it in the freezer. In the middle of the island Strand has one of those things that dispenses boiling water for coffee or tea and she just marvels at it before she googles how to use it right. While the coffee steeps, Alex just sets her alarm on silent and makes herself a jelly sandwich. She can’t find the toaster. And of course Richard only has artisanal jelly that has never been opened. Of course he does. 

Working in Richard’s kitchen without him seems odd. There’s no large table of reclaimed wood at the apartment—just stools at the island and it feels weird. Honestly, this place doesn’t feel right to her, not when she’s gotten so used to being in Howard’s house where the kitchen is far more welcoming. Honestly, it’s the most welcome place in the Strand home in Seattle and so far she’s not found a comparable spot here in Chicago. Alex doesn’t like it—it’s a reminder of how Richard was before: cold and sterile save for when she broke through the shell of that even without him wanting her to do so. 

Throwing herself into work and research just for something to do, time slips away for Alex as it so often does. When her alarm goes off at 7:30, she can’t help but to be surprised when it’s eight and there’s still no sign of Strand, she fixes him a cup of the green tea he likes in the mornings. At 8:05, she knocks on his still closed bedroom door. Giving him two minutes when he doesn’t reply, she knocks even louder. At ten after, she says fuck it and tries the handle; it’s not locked and she steps into the darkened bedroom. 

The bed there is a king size, and she’s entirely not surprised by it after the one in the guest room. Alex wouldn’t have been surprised by it anyway, truth be told being how tall he was and how often he complains about the world not being designed for tall people. When she pads over to the bed, Richard is sprawled across it on his back and she’s relieved when she can see the rise and fall of his chest. Setting the tea down, Alex just reaches out and turns on the bedside lamp, she’s about to actually take a look at Richard’s bedroom when he reaches out and grabs her wrist tugging her back onto the bed with a muttered “five more minutes” before he wraps his arms around her. 

For a moment, Alex doesn’t know what to do, because honestly, she doesn’t think that Richard realizes it’s her. Looking into his face he looks _terrible_ and she just frowns for a second before she tries to tug away and he holds onto her harder with what is undoubtedly a _whine_. “Richard,” Alex says softly, trying to wake him up in a more kindly way than she expects he would if the situations were reversed. “Come on, it’s Alex. You said you wanted to get to the bank first thing.”

“Five more minutes, Alex.” He mumbles quickly into her hair with a sigh of contentment before she puts a hand on his chest intending to give him a little shove. 

It’s the hand on his chest that does it, and he pulls away so quickly that if the bed was smaller, Alex knows that Richard definitely would have fallen off the other side of it. While he blinks at her owlishly, she just says “it’s okay. You’ve got to wake up though.”

“Alex—“ He starts again and she knows that it’s about to be an embarrassing (for both of them) apology before she cuts him off as she scrambles out of the bed. 

“It’s okay.” This time the words are more firm and she’s crimson and halfway to the door before she adds, “There’s tea on the nightstand.”

Out the door and shutting it behind her before he can respond, Alex practically runs back to the kitchen before she puts her hands against her burning cheeks. That felt entirely too pleasant and she is definitely not going to think about it. Or mention it to anyone ever. Especially not to Richard and she just honestly hopes that he’s just going to let it all go. She’s on her third cup of coffee when he comes out ten minutes later, and he’s shaved and dressed, but honestly that somehow makes him look _worse_. 

“Are you okay?” The words come out before she can stop them, and Alex takes a step towards him, because she’s slightly afraid that he’s going to fall over. A thin sheen of sweat is coating his brow, and she can tell that he hasn’t bothered to shave, even if he’s put on a suit that is still slightly too big. It must have been one of the ones he’d left here in Chicago when he’d moved out to Seattle. While Strand had put on much of the weight and the muscle that he’d lost during his search for Coralee last year, it’s not all there and now she can tell how much of a difference that there is considering he’d not had that one altered to fit him properly. 

“I’m fine,” the tone Richard uses is the one that he uses to stop any sort of protest on anyone’s part, but especially Alex’s. She just raises a brow at him for a moment, before he clears his throat. “Uh. Thank you. For the tea.” Then before she can say anything else, he adds, “we should get going. I wanted to get to the bank as soon as it opens and now we’re going to be cutting it too close. My car is in the garage here, Ruby makes sure the maintenance is up to date so it should be fine to drive without any concerns.” 

Alex protests immediately: “We need to stop and get you a coat first. It’s ten degrees out there!” 

“We don’t have time, Alex! We can get one after, the car should be sufficient to keep me warm enough and I’ll wear a spring jacket if it makes you feel better.” 

“Was that what you meant by having a coat here?!” Alex doesn’t even bother to hide the disbelief and anger in her voice. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” 

“Alex.” Richard’s voice is even colder than the temperature outside, and it somehow feels more sharp and arctic in comparison to the way he had said it a few minutes earlier in his bedroom--a fact that he doesn’t give her time to think about when he adds, “I already told you we don’t have time for this. I’m leaving, and we’re going directly to the bank. If you’re going to have a problem with that then you can stay here.” 

“I already told you that I’m going.” Alex is already grabbing her bag and the large coat that she had augmented with a sweater below it. Tugging her scarf around her neck, Alex just follows him out relieved that at least he’s wearing something even if it’s not a jacket to go with his scarf and gloves. The two of them are silent as they stand on opposing sides of the elevator, and Richard is steadfastly not looking at her as she glances at him every so often. The line of his mouth is set, and Alex bites her lip to stop the sigh from coming out. She really doesn’t want to discuss what happened earlier, but she also doesn’t want to go back to him not talking to her either. The past few weeks since she’d gotten back from Turkey had been better, but now she just feels wrong footed and like things are off and she hates it. 

When they reach the parking garage, Richard leads her over to an older model Land Rover, Which makes Alex raise her brows at him. “I got it when I did more work in the field. It worked better to haul the equipment that I needed.” He says as he unlocks the doors and climbs in, starting the car. It’s different than the much newer BMW that he uses in Seattle and not for the first time since they’ve landed, Alex can’t help but wonder how much he’s changed since he last lived her full time before everything happened when he’d gone off the deep end. She’d stayed at a hotel and they’d used her rental car exclusively for the short time she was in Seattle after she’d broken into his office. Well. Sort of broken into it anyway. She doesn’t really count it as breaking in. 

But the car smells like him still, so that’s one thing that didn’t change and Alex can’t help but think of that as they wait for the car to warm up and he sits shivering next to her. Another thing that she knows is that if she doesn’t say anything, he’s going to slip even further into the brooding mood he’s in and the longer that he’s in it, the harder it is to break him out. When he’s pulling out his phone and opening the GPS app, Alex can’t help but to ask: “how far away is it?”

“With traffic? Probably just under an hour. It’s definitely far enough away that people wouldn’t notice it if they were looking for something that Coralee left.” There’s a pause and he lowers his voice a bit before he adds, “I didn’t.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Richard,” she says automatically but Alex knows that he definitely already is. “Listen, what name did she rent it under?”

“Harriet Strand.” He says the name softly, almost as if he can’t believe it. 

“There you go. You weren’t looking for things rented under that name. You told me yourself that she hated it. And she that she changed it in high school. Renting a safe deposit box requires ID. You had no idea that she was capable of even having fake ids let alone that she’d be likely using them, Richard. It’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps.” His voice is still soft, but it’s a thoughtful soft as the car starts to blow warm air and the windows begin to defrost. He can’t stop the sigh of contentment that comes with the heat and then realizing what he’d done, or noticing Alex’s blush, he just clears his throat quickly and backs out of the space. 

He starts driving and they’re still close to his apartment when Alex asks softly: “what do you think we’re going to find?”

“Honestly?” Richard asks before he checks to see if she’s recording. She’s not even though Alex knows that she probably should be. She doesn’t want to have to edit the bed conversation if it comes up. 

“Honestly.”

He sighs. “I don’t know. My messages from Coralee stopped while I was in Italy. I don’t know if Coralee felt our last…” Richard pauses and frowns for a moment before he continues, “conversation was her final communication with me or not. But my conversations with Coralee were always on her own terms even when we were married. Even before the fighting started. I had thought that was simply the way that she was, but I realize now that she was using it as sort of a...power technique I suppose. A way of keeping me _interested_.” 

The bitterness in Richard’s voice makes Alex wince, she can’t help it. Laying he fingers gently on his arm, she just says and means, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Alex. But thank you.” Wrapping his fingers over hers for a moment before letting go, Richard just adds: “so to answer your question, no I don’t know what is in there. If anything at all. But I think we’re going to beat Thomas Warren to it.”

“You mean if it’s not a trap.”

“Yes, I mean if it’s not a trap.”

Alex’s lips twist upwards into a smile at that. “You know the fact that you said all that with minimal scorn says a lot.” 

He gives her that huffy laugh. “Yes, well I guess that you’re rubbing off on me, Alex.” 

Alex wants to push and to ask if that means that he’s starting to believe more, but she doesn’t. He still looks terrible and stressed and honestly he’s starting to look a little ill. So, she just works on keeping it light. “Well, I mean it had to happen eventually, right? People can’t be around me forever and not have me rub off on them a bit.” 

He doesn’t say anything to that, or for the next ten minutes, but he does cough and Alex just raises a brow at him. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Alex.”

“Oh so you’re psychic _now_. That’s a change.” Her tone is very dry. 

“Alex I mean it.” There’s a warning in his tone, but he does offer: “when we’re done with the bank we’ll stop for tea and coffee.” A beat and he adds, “and breakfast I suppose.”

“Okay.” Alex can’t help but notice that Richard is driving much faster than he normally does when they get on the highway. Richard Strand for comparison's sake tends to always drive like a grandfather. Not Alex’s grandfather because he has a lead foot, but _someone’s_. Either way, she doesn’t comment on how the arrival time on the GPS keeps getting shorter and shorter. It’s less than forty minutes after they left when Richard pulls into the parking lot of the small credit union and parks the car. Sitting there for a long moment, Alex just touches his arm again. “Hey. Listen. No matter what is inside of there, I’m with you, alright? You’re not alone in this and we’ll deal with it together.” 

For a moment, Richard looks like he wants to argue or bolt, or perhaps both but then he just nods. “Alright. Together. Are you ready? I’m sure you want to start recording when we go in.” 

Alex is taken back, because the whole Richard asking about recording thing is new, and she appreciates it, she really does but it’s still odd especially in the context of how this feels very season two to her. Once again, they’re tracing the ghost of Coralee and her actions and Alex just hides the look on her face by peering into her bag and digging out her recorder and checking the battery and levels on it. When she’d not been able to sleep last night, Alex had charged it and copied the sim card onto her computer and uploaded it into the cloud, so that was fine. Sliding the earbud into her ear, Alex just reaches for the consent forms that would allow whoever they spoke to at the bank to use their voice. Normally, Alex never has a problem getting someone to sign one, so she’d rather have them ready to go just in case.

And even if they won’t let her use their voice, they can’t stop her from recording audio in the actual bank vault itself. Alex had looked up the procedure for this, and once they were in the vault, they would be left alone. 

Being left alone is what happened, honestly because the bank manager wouldn’t let them record her voice without asking for her boss’ approval first. Which was fine, and Alex doesn’t even try to work her normal charm on Ms. Lopez, Richard is too twitchy for her to take the time. The box that the bank manager removes is smaller than Alex expected it to be, and it’s definitely thinner and more flat. She just frown as she sets the recorder down, and she stands next to him, her arm brushing against his own as he turns the key in the lock. 

Richard seems to be waiting for a moment, and it takes everything inside of her not to rush him. Coralee has been a sore spot of contention for them especially since she’d gotten back from Turkey and with him so on edge, Alex doesn’t think that pushing him on it is that much of a good idea right now. And people say she doesn’t have a sense of self preservation, Alex can’t help but to think and he looks at her unnervingly for a moment before he lifts the metal box lid. 

Inside the box is a Manila folder, and it’s very thin. Richard’s pace is slow as he lifts it out and then closes the box lid with an unnecessarily sharp clang that makes her jump and say, “Jesus.”

He doesn’t apologize when he looks to her but he does open the folder and what’s inside makes him gasp softly. “Richard,” her voice is soft and she touches his arm again. “Are those signed _divorce papers_?”

“They appear to be,” he sighs the words softly and flips the pages to the last one where there’s, “And notarized. The date on them is two weeks before we left. We were going away for my birthday because we thought some sun might help. But. These were filed the day after I booked the trip.” 

The sadness in his voice makes Alex’s heart break for him. “I’m so sorry, Richard.”

“In some ways it’s a relief to know that nothing that I was going to do was going to make a difference. Even if they hadn’t taken her from that highway, these have still always been here just waiting for me to find them.” A pause and he curls his fingers over the hand on her arm again. “But thank you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What she clearly wants me to do since she sent me the key,” it’s somehow even more bitter as he pulls the fountain pen from the inside of his coat pocket. Where there is the X above the typed print of his name, Richard just signs it with his large flourish of a signature. “There. She wanted a divorce and now she has one.” And then he pauses. “Oh, she was kind enough to leave me an envelope even if the postage is almost twenty years _out of date_.”

“Richard you don’t need to this right now. It can wait a bit!”

“Oh? Can it? So you’re an expert on marriage now? Or is it just my marriage in particular?” Yes, this is achingly familiar and sharp and harsh. Alex just counts for a moment before she turns off the recorder. 

“I think you need a minute. I’m going to go talk to the manager and see if anyone has ever come in looking for information about this box. There’s still a chance that it’s not even from her—that it’s Warren trying to push you into a tailspin because we’re close to something else.”

“It’s from her, Alex.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It’s from _her_.” He just repeats with a sad certainty that hurts Alex. “You heard her parents. She wanted a divorce back then because I wouldn’t give her a child. I’m sure once you start investigating this comes from the lawyer that her father gave him the name of. It would have breached confidentiality if he’d mentioned it back then, no matter how much it was on the news.”

“ _Richard_.” 

“I’m _fine_ , Alex. My marriage was never really real for her in the first place. She hasn’t contacted me for anything other than this in months. I’m certain that she’s considering any _obligations_ that she’d had towards myself or Charlie finished now that we’ve reconciled. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t…” The bitter bite in his voice is cut short by a longer bout of coughing and Alex just reaches into her bag and pulls out her ever present water bottle (when you talk as much as Alex does, she makes a habit of carrying it everywhere she goes). 

He takes it and takes a long sip, and Alex makes a note not to drink from it until they get back to Richard’s so she can wash it out. The last thing they need is for both of them to be sick right now. 

Richard picks up the envelope and puts it into his briefcase before he starts heading out the door, and Alex scrambles to put her recorder away, and follow after him. They don’t bother to stop to check in with the manager and Richard doesn’t wait for the car to warm up this time before he starts to drive. All total they were only in there for ten minutes or so and Alex just pulls up her phone and starts looking for men’s wear stores around them. “There’s a place where we can stop to get a coat for you on the way back to your house.”

“Weren’t not stopping, Alex.” Richard’s voice is immediate and he hasn’t lost that sharpness. 

“ _What_?! You need a coat, Richard.”

“I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, _Ms. Reagan_ but I am an adult who is capable of making his own choices despite what the women in my life happen to believe. We are _not stopping_.” Ice flows from his voice down her spine and Alex just responds by going hot herself. 

“Fine, _Dr. Strand_ , if you want to be a complete fucking idiot and catch your death of cold, that is entirely your own _adult_ ” and from her tone of voice Alex considers it anything _but adult_ , “decision. On your own head be it.”

“It always is.”

“Fine.” Alex just glared at him before turning her attention towards the window and ignoring him entirely while he’s driving. When he starts coughing again, she does leave the water bottle in the middle of the seats between them—just because he’s being a fucking idiot doesn’t mean that she has to be an asshole even if she does seriously consider it. If anything, the drive back from the bank takes even less time than it did to get there, considering how much lighter the traffic was and Richard just pulls into his parking space and sits there with his hands so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles are turning white. 

As she undoes her seatbelt, Alex just speaks softly, using the framing device of her own discomfort in hoping that it would make him more likely to do something for himself. “Come on, I need coffee. I’ll make you some more tea.”

Despite looking like he wants to argue with her some more, Richard removes his own seatbelt and gets out of the car; removing his keycard for the elevator. They’re quiet on the ride up, save for several more bouts of coughing from him. After they’re inside, Alex just leaves him standing inside the living room while she starts to fill the French press once more. When she brings him the tea, it’s not the green that he obviously expected. “What is this?”

“Ginger lemon with honey. You need it.”

“Do you have any idea how old this is?” 

“No, I don’t but since you wouldn’t stop, you get old tea.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I am an adult. I decide what kind of tea I drink. Not _you_.”

“What you’re being, Richard is fucking an idiot. I know you’re angry and upset, and you have every right to be. But you don’t have every right to be angry or upset with me this time. I haven’t done _anything_ to you to earn this.”

“Oh. Haven’t you?”

“What are you _talking_ about?!”

“You know very well what I’m talking about, Alex.”

“No I don’t. I am here on my damned vacation because I thought you needed me. Considering all you seem to need to do is insult me and my intelligence then you can do that _without me._ ” Then, before he can say a single damn thing else, Alex just grabs her coat and purse and walks out the door with as loud of a slam as she can manage on such well-oiled hinges.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their fight with Richard getting sick and being upset about the divorce papers that Coralee left, Alex wanders the city for a while before she comes back to the apartment to deal with a sick Richard, a snow storm and fate deciding that she needs to be sick too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I guess because I had to write these two idiots getting sick, I had to get sick myself! That's how it goes I guess. But I finished it anyway! Enjoy your second day of Stragan Christmas!

She really has no idea where she’s going when she hits the cold of the Chicago streets, but Alex just picks a direction and starts heading in it. Expecting to find a Starbucks or some other local coffee shop, Alex just resigns herself to terrible coffee when she finds herself in front of her second Dunkin’ Donuts within a block and a half. While sitting there and nursing the coffee (if this place has one thing going for it it’s the size of the coffees) and ranting to Nic via text message without any real hope of reply, being as his stupid ass is in Russia right now several things hit Alex all at once. 

The first thing is the fact that she honestly doesn’t know Richard’s address or how to get back to his apartment. Rationally Alex is aware of the fact that she can text Ruby for the address and count on google for the directions but that leads to the second thing that hits her. Honestly Alex doesn’t know if Richard is going to let her back inside given the mood he’s in right now, especially if he’s getting six. But he has to let her back in, if for no other reason than the fact that he’s the one who purchased their tickets and Alex doesn’t have any of that info to get herself home! And all of her luggage is still there. 

And Richard is definitely getting sick on top of dealing with everything with Coralee and the divorce papers. Getting sick is his own fault, but Richard’s never really been anything close to rational when it comes to the subject of his wife (and Alex can’t really blame him for that being as she’s not really all that rational about him herself.) 

The anger within Alex slowly starts to deflate as she finishes the first coffee and moves onto her second, and by the time she’s done with it and her bagel (and donut because today sucks) it’s gone entirely. Texting Ruby for Richard’s address is easier than she expected—Strand’s assistant doesn’t even bother to ask for a reasoning behind it. When she puts the address in for directions, Alex notices that there’s a CVS along the way. 

Knowing that anything that Richard may have had for colds in his apartment is probably expired after three years (or entirely non-existent considering how Alex herself needed to stock all of the basic essentials at his father’s house) Alex makes the stop. Filling up on everything that she can think of for a cold, including tissues, Alex loads them up into a reusable bag and starts to head back toward his apartment, telling herself that he definitely would let her in. Maybe it was nothing more than hope, but Alex Reagan is someone who lives in the realm of hope, so she’s going to bet on that every time.

Honestly she’s about two blocks away when she gets a text from Richard that just reads: “door open. Going back to sleep” Given that paranoia tends to run in Richard Strand on the best of days, she’s more than a little shocked to see that. Still, it doesn’t stop her from making a stop as she catches a display in the window. Thankfully the store delivers so that’s at least one less thing to worry about. 

When Alex let’s herself into Richard’s apartment, his door is firmly shut tight Alex doesn’t even consider knocking on it. Things are too sharp for that, and instead she confines herself in the living room, records some rough audio of what happened to refine later after she knows more of what’s going on, and then she throws herself into doing research. Finally when it starts to be time for dinner, Alex just looks to his door again. 

The clearly thrown dregs of the tea that Alex had made for him before their fight were still in the sink, and it doesn’t look like he’d made anything to eat in the time she was gone. That’s not exactly out of the normal for Richard on a day to day basis, but it’s even more normal for periods of him in high stress situations. Even though she’d grabbed him some cans of chicken soup, a search of the kitchen yielded no usable pots that she could reach and given that the countertops were far taller than the ones in her apartment (which makes her wonder if it was a thing to have countertops at a custom height or not) she doesn’t want to climb on top of them for fear of breaking her damn neck. 

In the end, as it almost always does, Grubhub saves the day and Alex just orders them their preferred type of pho from a place that has great reviews. The two of them have gotten pho enough in Seattle that Alex feels comfortable ordering for him, pho is her comfort food and if there’s one thing that’s amazing for you when you have a cold, it’s spicy and hot soup. Alex spends the entire time debating about whether or not to wake Richard up. In the end it turns out to be a moot point because when the buzzer goes off letting her know that the food has arrived, Richard comes stopping out of his bedroom in pajamas, looking somehow more of a wreck than he did the entire time he’d worn flannels. 

“God fucking damn it. I told her, _I told her_ that I’d left the door unlocked for her. Why can’t this woman ever just fucking listen to me for once in her damned life?!”

She’s going to blame the fact that he’s not wearing his glasses for his not seeing her, but Alex’s hackles rise nonetheless. “She did listen actually,” Alex says as she opens the door for food. “She ordered you dinner.”

Richard just stops short before he honest to god sniffles, and his voice is deeper and thicker than normal when he says “oh” and Alex knows it’s not from emotion, especially given the sneeze that follows it. “I’m not hungry.”

Without answering him, Alex just carries the brown bag into the kitchen. Seeing that she didn’t answer, it’s clear that Richard thinks the matter is settled when he just starts to honest to god stomp back to his bedroom. “No.” It’s a single word in a forceful tone. “You haven’t eaten all day. You’re sick. You’re having pho.”

“You are not my mother, Alex.” He snipes at Her quickly. “Don’t mollycoddle me.”

“No but I am your friend and you need to eat. So you’re eating. You’re eating if I have to sit on you and force it down your throat.”

“I’d like to see you try,” the tone could be joking or it could be not, but Alex isn’t going to give him the chance to weasel out of eating either way. 

“I don’t know, I’m small but I’m wiry and right now you look like a good wind would shove you over. I’m way stronger than that.”

Richard just tries another tactic as he whines, “ _I’m not hungry_.”

“I don’t care. You’re going to eat something. And have some tea. And then you can take the NyQuil I brought you and go back to bed.”

“Alex—”

“You know, I would have thought that you know by now that I won’t take no for an answer. You should come eat before it gets cold.”

Grabbing bowls is an almost Herculean task, but she manages it, and by the time Alex is digging around for spoons, Richard has seated himself at the island counter. Hiding the smile on her face, she just fixes the pho the way that she knows that he likes it and sets it down in front of him before she makes him another cup of ginger and lemon tea with honey, only before he can protest she adds, “this isn’t old. I grabbed it when I grabbed the cold medicine. You’re drinking it.”

Neither one of them say anything as Alex fixes her own pho, and by the time she’s two bites in, Richard’s finished two-thirds of his pho and all of his tea. “Where’s the nyquil?” With the way he sounds so miserable, Alex can’t help but to tell him. 

“Next to the sink. There’s cough drops and tissues and advil there too if you need them.” 

When he goes to get them, Richard doesn’t bother to use the little cup for the medicine: he just takes a giant swig directly from the bottle before picking up the cough drops and the box of tissues. As he stands in the hallway, he just blinks owlishly at her for a moment before he says, “Alex…” She doesn’t know what she’s expecting that Richard’s going to say next, but she’s not surprised when he says, “thank you. For doing this.” 

“It’s not a problem, Richard. You should try and get some sleep, okay?” 

“I. Yes. I will. And you should try and sleep too, Alex.” Despite looking as if he wants to say something else, Richard just finishes with: “good night, Alex.”

“Good night, Richard. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Well,” he tries with a small crack of a smile. “It’s going to feel hard to feel very worse.”

Alex doesn’t say anything as he goes into his bedroom, but in the end she grabs her laptop and curls up with her headphones on. She tried the couch but honestly it’s so uncomfortable she has no idea how anyone sits on it for any length of time. Honestly she wonders if Richard got it like that on purpose to discourage people from sitting on it for any length of time. Honestly she is just really grateful for all of the work that Ruby has done at Howard’s house—otherwise the last few months would have been even worse of a nightmare than they are now.

It’s around midnight, Chicago time when the Netflix that she’d been not even really watching with her headphones on asked her if she was still watching when Alex hears it. Richard is coughing, more than that he’s _choking_ and the fear of it crawls into her stomach and doesn’t let go. Without even thinking about it, Alex is on her feet and she pads over to his bedroom glad that she’s wearing pajamas with a sweater over them. When she knocks and he doesn’t answer but keeps coughing, Alex just opens the door and walks into the room. 

The orderly room from earlier is kind of a mess, and Alex is surprised that he’s left the light on and that the comforter and top sheet are slate pools on the floor next to the bed on the pale rug. The second thing that she’s surprised at is that Richard is shirtless, and he’s dripping sweat as he coughs and wrestles with demons in his sleep. The fact of just how good he looks shirtless is filed away for later as she darts into the bathroom and grabs a washcloth and soaks it with cold water. 

“Richard,” He is in the middle of the bed, and Alex has no choice but to climb into it with him as she reaches out to touch his face and behind his ears with the back of her hand. The washcloth is placed on his forehead, and he immediately starts to shiver and pull away with a whine. “Come on Richard, you’re burning up. We need to get you to a doctor.”

“No doctor,” his voice a rap and his eyes are overly bright. “I’m fine.”

“Richard you are not fucking fine at all. I didn’t grab a thermometer but I can tell you have a fever. You’re drenched and you’re shaking.”

“‘M fine.” He tried again but starts coughing and Alex just rubs his back while he’s doing it. It’s covered in sweat too, leaving her hand wet with it. “Not going to the doctor. Maybe this will just get everything over with.”

“Richard, you asshole if you die on my I promise I will learn necromancy and kick your fucking ass.”

“There’s no such—“ he starts but loses what he’s going to say in a fit of coughing. Besides. It’s not like she doesn’t know what he’s going to say anyway. 

“Stay here. Don’t move.” Alex just quickly rises to her feet and runs from the room into the kitchen. Richard had grabbed the NyQuil and she doesn’t want to dose him with anymore of it, so she just grabs plain old cough medicine and the bottle of Advil that she’d brought with a huge glass of water. When she returns, Richard hasn’t moved but his eyes are closed and the washcloth is off his head. 

Muttering quickly, she just says, “damn it, Richard you need that.”

“I’m cold.” It’s an announcement without opening his eyes and Alex just sets the water down on the nightstand before she grabs the sheet and throws it over him. She doesn’t want to grab the comforter until his fever comes down. 

“Richard,” Alex’s voice is imploring as she climbs into the bed again and opens the bottle of Advil shaking four out onto her palm. “Please I need you to sit up for me, okay?”

“Don’t you know I’d do almost anything for you, Alex Reagan. Maybe even believe in things that aren’t real. Just for you.”

“We can talk about that later, okay? I really need you to take these meds. Please. I need you to be okay.” There’s something in her voice that draws him into a shaky half-sitting up thing and Alex moves to support his weight with her shoulder as she dumps the pills into his palm and then holds the water. He takes them without any fuss, and she hands him the cough medicine. “I don’t think you should have anymore NyQuil but you need this.” That too is accepted without compliant before she moves to help him lie down. 

Richard hisses when the cool washcloth is pressed against his forehead again, and Alex starts to get up to grab another one for his wrists when his hands lock around hers. “Please stay, Alex. Promise me you won’t leave. I know you won’t break your promises.” His tone is weak and vulnerable and Alex knows that he doesn’t mean right now. 

“I’m not going to leave. I’m just getting another washcloth to get your fever down.”

“Do you promise? I know you, Alex. You never break promises even when you should.” There’s a lot to unpack there, but Alex didn’t have time to do it as he just stares at her, his eyes gimlets. 

“I promise. I’m just going into your bathroom, okay?” He holds onto her hand for another long moment before Richard let’s go and she moves into the bathroom, soaking several washcloths. When she comes back, she puts one on the back of his neck, and one each on his wrists. As she’s placing the last one on it, he just twists his fingers with her own. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Alex can tell that he means it, and she knows that he’s not apologizing for this. He’s apologizing for the whole damned thing, but he’s not exactly with it at the moment, so she chooses to focus on something else. “It’s okay, you didn’t choose to get sick like this.”

Immediately he protests, “Alex.”

“Shush. Close your eyes. Did I ever tell you about the time I wore my first suit?”

With his eyes closed, there’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “I can’t imagine you ever wearing a suit, Alex.”

“Well, I have. And my mom made the first one. She’s actually a really good seamstress.”

“Your mother made you a suit?” The words sound almost normal other than the deeper (and Jesus fucking Christ _how does his voice get deeper?!_ ) as he opens his eyes to look at her. 

“Well, I mean, I was five years old at the time and it was for Halloween and I outgrew it like two weeks later, but it was a very nice suit for what it was.” He huffs a laugh at her before she continues. “I wanted to be Lois Lane for Halloween. She was my idol when I was a kid. Only with less needing to be saved by Superman. I’m definitely not a damsel in distress.”

“No,” he says almost dreamily, as he tugs her to lay down on the pillow next to his. “you’re not.”

Alex wants to protest, but his eyes are closing again, and his breathing sounds less ragged, so she doesn’t want to work him up. “My dad always took Halloween off to take me trick or treating, so our costumes tended to match. My dad thought he’d be Superman, but I wouldn’t let him because Superman was Lois Lane’s boyfriend. I was very serious about Halloween when I was a kid.” Richard just laughs again before Alex continues. “So they wouldn’t tell me what he was going to be and my mom would only make my costume if I promised not to snoop.”

“Did you even last an entire hour before you started snooping, Alex?” He sounds far too amused for her liking, but he also sounds a little better. Alex Reagan can’t sing lullabies or anything, but she can tell stories like no one’s business, and her mother has definitely said more than once that the best way to take someone’s pain away was to make them not think about it. So that’s what she’s doing here. 

“Shut up. I lasted a day. Then I got so busted and my dad sat me down and gave me a lecture about promises. When it was time for Halloween, he came down as Jimmy Olson and took me trick or treating that way. Took photos of me with all the superheroes around. It was a good Halloween.” 

Richard’s breathing is even by the time she gets to the end of the story, and after a few minutes, Alex starts to slip from the bed. His arms just wrap around her, holding her in place. “You promised you wouldn’t leave, Alex.”

“I’m not.” The words are an automatic protest from Alex. “I’m cold I’m just grabbing the blanket, okay.” His arms tighten around her for a second before he lets her go, and Alex doesn’t even actually get off the bed before she grabs the blanket and pulls it over them. “Try to sleep, okay? I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Always need you,” Richard mumbles half asleep. “I love you, Alex.”

Alex doesn’t respond because she honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. What can she say to something that comes out of his mouth when he’s not one hundred percent in control? Richard Strand’s thing _is_ control, especially when it comes to himself and if he doesn’t say it when he’s not in control, it can’t possibly count, right? It doesn’t count, she decides firmly as she just lays down next to him. 

Sleep doesn’t come, despite the fact that she’s exhausted and has been awake for somewhere close to fifty hours now. Honestly, Alex almost wishes that she was on sleeping pills so that she would sleep, and so her thoughts weren’t running on a wheel that was powered by seven words spoken while half asleep in an entirely too deep voice that were said when he had a fever. Racing thoughts aren’t something that’s new for Alex, not even where her feelings for Richard Strand are concerned (especially not where her feelings for Richard Strand are concerned honestly) and there’s no small part of her that bites her lip so she doesn’t say the words back on the off chance that he’s awake enough to even hear them. 

Because Alex does love Richard, and she has loved him for way too long to be considered healthy. She loves him, and she’s known that she’s been in love with him since before he’d even disappeared the first time. Which was probably one of the reasons that she’d taken that entire year so damned hard. Of course, the idea that he loved her too was too fantastical for even Alex to consider. The thoughts keep her awake as Richard sleeps beside her, and it’s only sheer exhaustion that causes her to eventually pass out as the first lighter blues of the sky play across the Chicago skyline of Richard’s bedroom window-wall. 

It’s dark in the room when she wakes up, and Alex just groans softly. Her head is splitting and she’s in a panic at an unfamiliar room even if the smell of it is very familiar indeed. Checking her watch, she can see that she didn’t really sleep for very long it’s—maybe two hours if that—but it’s definitely twilight in here. It takes her a minute to realize that at some point Richard must have woken up and put down the black out curtains however one does that. 

Sitting up makes her head spin, and she groans softly as she slides carefully out of the bed. Richard’s asleep again, but in different pajamas so he must feel at least a little better. On her way to his bathroom, Alex grabs the Advil and she takes a few with water from the sink before she comes back to bed. Very gently, Alex’s brushes the back of her hand against his forehead. It still feels warm, hot almost and when she moves her hand to behind his ear, she realizes that his eyes are open and she gasps. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks, and her voice sounds higher than normal. It sounds almost like—nope. Nope she is not getting sick now. “You still feel really warm.”

“Actually,” He says softly, his voice still deeper than it should be. “You feel warm. Your hands are hot, Alex.”

“They _can’t be_.” Alex Reagan is normally someone for whom ‘cold hands warm heart’ was a saying about, and Richard knows it. They both know it, but her hands don’t feel hot when she brushes them to her face. 

“I think you’ve got whatever I have, Alex.”

“ _I can’t_. I have to get on a flight tomorrow. If I don’t I’m going to get snowed in. Chicago is supposed to get a major winter snow, remember? If I can’t get out tomorrow I’m not going to make it home for Christmas!”

“Alex, no one is going to be getting on a flight tomorrow. The storm is coming in then.”

“When the hell did that happen?”

“Around four hours ago.”

“ _Four hours ago_?” The words are repeated in abject horror. “How long was I asleep?!” Alex can’t believe it, there needs to be some sort of mistake and she just checks her watch again. It’s definitely still saying 8:17. 

“Judging from when I got up? At least six hours. Possibly more. I didn’t want to wake you. I know I kept you up most of the night.”

“That’s impossible! I never sleep this long! Unless…” Unless she’s sick. Being sick is the one time that her body finally says fuck you and knocks her out for awhile. 

“Unless what, Alex?” He asks quietly in the way that he always does when he expects that she knows the answer. 

“Unless I’m sick.” There’s definitely more than a little bit of petulance in Alex’s voice and she can’t stop the glare that she makes at him with that whether it’s for the question, the being sick or the him getting _her_ sick she can’t tell. But Richard does put his hand on her forehead now, and it’s cool enough that Alex leans into it quickly. 

“You definitely have a fever, Alex. Did you take anything when you were in the bathroom?”

“I took some Advil. I thought I just had a headache.” The whine is still there and Alex just looks away from him for a moment while he moves his hand to behind her ear. 

“The Advil should help,” he announces as if his doctorates are in medicine rather than psychology and religion. “You should probably take some cold medicine too.”

“I should eat something,” it’s quick and she adds, “and you should too. I bet you haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I had some toast earlier,” Richard shifts uncomfortably in the face of her accusation but he pulls out his phone and goes to the Grubhub app and starts ordering something without her input. 

“I couldn’t find your toaster yesterday.” Alex explains when she’s wavering a bit on her feet, and Richard tugs her onto the bed. 

“Lay down before you fall down, Alex.” His tone allows no argument but it does soften a bit when he adds, “it’s in the cabinet above the refrigerator.”

“Where only a giant can get to it. Of course it is.”

“I’m hardly a giant, Alex.”

“Only comparatively.”

“Then the majority of the population would be considered giantantic, I’m sure.”

“Shut up. What did you order for dinner?”

There’s a twist of a smile on Richard’s lips, but he doesn’t comment on her huffiness. “The best medicine for a cold that there is: Jewish penicillin. I ordered three of the deli’s largest size just in case they don’t open tomorrow.”

Alex frowns, “is it really going to be that bad?”

“Alex, the forecast is for nearly twenty inches of snow. They’re saying that there’s a good chance that’s going to break the record snowfall for a single storm here in Chicago. Additionally, there’s a concern about ice on top of that. I’m afraid that the earliest that we’re going to be able to get you home is the day after Christmas, and that’s providing that we can even get you a ticket then.”

“My mother is going to murder me. I promised her I’d be home for Christmas.”

“Alex, this isn’t something that you can help. While you may be a force of nature, even you can’t stop the snow.” There’s a wry smile in Richard eyes when he says that, but Alex feels too terrible to care. 

“Are we going to have enough supplies and stuff? I’ve never been in a blizzard like this before.”

“While you were sleeping I had a grocery order delivered, including more cold medicine. I have a feeling that we’re going to need. If we lose power, there’s a gas fireplace in here and there should be plenty of candles that Ruby has given me over the years.”

“Ruby likes candles?” She asks but then she just buries her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m sick and stuck fifteen hundred miles away from my family on Christmas.”

Richard just looks uncomfortable for a moment, but he does seize on the question about Ruby. “She thought they would make the apartment feel less like a showroom and she always got them from places it would have been a huge hassle to return them too.” Because he probably would have out of sheer spite if he could have. 

“Well, I mean she’s not wrong. I thought the couch in your office was uncomfortable. By comparison it seems like the height of luxury.”

“Yes, well you know me, Alex, it’s not as if I do a lot of entertaining here.”

“But don’t you ever sit in there?”

Richard just pauses for a second. “No. I don’t even have a television in there.”

“But you have that amazing view! That’s like better than a television. Don’t you ever just want to enjoy it?” Alex sounds confused because it seems like the biggest selling point for this place _would_ be the view—she can’t imagine not wanting to take advantage of it. 

“Alex I.” Whatever is going to say is lost when the buzzer goes off and he just laughs softly. “Saved by the bell I suppose.” Heading into the living room, Alex follows dragging the comforter from his bed in her wake even with the big of carnage that it causes. 

As Richard gets the door, Alex just drops down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, using the uncomfortable leather as a backrest rather than a seat. But when he returns, he’s not carrying food, instead he’s carrying an extremely large box with a red bow. A box that Alex has definitely forgotten about in the twenty-four hours since she purchased it. 

Richard is looking at it in his hands like he’s expecting a bomb to go off honestly. “It’s—“ Alex starts. “That’s from me. I got it yesterday when I was out. Considering I’d left your actual present in Seattle when I got on the plane with you.”

Sitting on the couch, Richard is holding the box and looking at it like he’s never seen a present before. “You got this for me yesterday? After I was such a bastard to you?”

“Well yeah. Besides you need it.” Alex just shrugs as he undoes the bow and takes off the lid, parting the tissue paper to reveal the black coat beneath it. “I know it’s not as nice as your old one, but it’s supposed to be really warm.”

“You brought me a coat?” Richard just questions again, and tugs the black length of it out. 

“Of course I did. It’s just plain wool rather than the whole wool and tweed thing you had going but it should work until we get home.” As Alex colors, she’s definitely blaming it on the fever. “Well, back to Seattle I guess.”

“Home.” Richard says it softly and it’s not a question—it’s a statement. “When we get home it should be fine. It’s not as if Seattle ever really gets cold. Or twenty inches of snow.” Looking to the window, he can see that the snow has started coming down in sheets, and the world far away has a thin white sheen on it. Moving to his feet slowly (he is still feeling quite terrible after all) Richard sets the box down and holds out one hand to help her up. Alex takes it and she rises to her feet with the blanket still around her like a cloak as he leads her to the window. 

“This is my favorite part of Chicago,” he says softly, and he points at the window. “When the world is starting to get all tucked in with snow.”

“It’s beautiful,” Alex admits softly, watching the road from very far away turn from black to white. “I can see while you like it.”

“But What Chicago doesn’t have,,” Richard adds as he gently pulls her so that they’re facing one another. “Is you.” There’s a long pause and Alex doesn’t know what to say before Richard speaks again. “May I kiss you, Alex?”

Alex doesn’t bother to answer as she rolls up onto her tiptoes and presses her lips gently to his own. Gentleness cedes to ardency as his arm wraps around her back, and it’s only that solid presence that stops the blanket from falling entirely off of her as she wraps her arms around his neck. Unfortunately that’s when the buzzer sounds once more. 

“That’s. That’s the food,” his voice is husky before he kisses her again. “I should get that. The poor kid doing delivery is probably going to have a hell of a time tonight. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“No. You really shouldn’t. Besides, I’m not going anywhere.” Unfortunately Alex’s promise is interrupted by both the buzzer once more and her first wracking cough of the night. 

In the end, their first Christmas together is quiet in Richard’s bed and it’s surrounded by tissues and cold medicine rather that flowers and sexy lingerie but that too is them. Because god knows they can’t do anything the normal way. After all, if they did they wouldn’t be Alex Reagan and Richard Strand, now would they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos give me life!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos give me life.


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